


Snug

by esteefee



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Cock Worship, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-04
Updated: 2011-04-04
Packaged: 2017-10-17 14:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something peculiar about how John dresses.</p><p>Re-post of commentfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snug

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crysothemis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crysothemis/gifts).



> Inspired by [this conversation](http://esteefee.livejournal.com/27957.html?thread=877877#t877877) with her about writing and canon and how BDU pants actually BUTTON and do not zip, and also inspired by this [yummy screenshot](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v305/crysothemis/buttonfly.jpg) of John's package in field gear.

Rodney knew John couldn't stick around to spend the night, and that was fine, that was just fine, it was perfectly understandable, even if regrettable. He'd grown accustomed to watching John roll out of bed (always Rodney's bed, because cavorting in John's tiny bed was an invitation to compound fractures and weeks in traction) and doing a hasty and efficient clean up; Rodney would lie on his side and stretch idly, still humming with the not-inconsiderable pleasure of just-having-been-laid by John Sheppard, something he'd only hoped for a mere few weeks ago, and watch through slitted eyes while John pieced himself back into the Lieutenant Colonel.

First the underwear, either white boxers (boring) or blue (stuffy) or once, lavender Jockeys (interesting), or, Rodney's personal favorite, the black and white checked boxers, as if John were secretly a race car driver in his dreams.

Then the socks, always black, then his T-shirt, also black—honestly, the man had no imagination at all, it seemed, outside the one touch he allowed semi-hidden under his pants.

But then the gray BDU pants, which he would pull up but not button all the way, because—and this was always the most intriguing step—John would always strap on his holster first, minus his sidearm, and then reach into his shorts and subtly adjust himself against the straps.

Next, Rodney knew, John would finish buttoning up and slide in his sidearm. But after a few weeks of watching this ritual, Rodney could no longer withstand his curiosity.

"Whatever are you doing in there?" Rodney asked, catching John with his hand down his pants.

John snapped his head up, looking surprised. He must've thought Rodney had dozed off.

"I mean—" Rodney waved, "getting dressed, obviously, but with the holster, and your—" Rodney hesitated to say what it looked like, which was patently impossible, because the chafing would be unimaginable; also, John was hung, but certainly not hung enough to strap himself to his leg.

But, oh—perhaps Rodney's question was a little invasive, because John had frozen with a glare, and also a tinge of redness to his neck.

"Just...curious?" Rodney said weakly. "Never mind."

John looked down and finished tucking his shirt in, then buttoned his BDU pants slowly. Shrugging, he said, "It's...comfortable, you know? I make a pocket with the strap and it...keeps me snug."

The tinge had turned into a full-blown blush, which was funny really, considering what they'd been up to just half an hour ago, but John continued doggedly, "You should try it next time we go out in the field. Makes it easier to run when your junk isn't flying around."

"Okay," Rodney said, feeling just a little warm because, well, that was kind of nice, being included in the secret handshake, as it were. Except now every time they were in the field he'd be thinking about John's secret pocket and his cock and balls all snug and held in place by his BDU pants and his thigh strap and— _God_.

Rodney reached under the sheet to grip his hard-on.

"Heh." John smirked. "And here I just got dressed—"

"Oh, shut up," Rodney growled, "and come back to bed."

 

_End._


End file.
